


Future, Tense

by ekwtsm



Category: The Streets of San Francisco
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 22:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekwtsm/pseuds/ekwtsm
Summary: A coda to end of the epilog of "The Thrill Killers".





	Future, Tense

“I think this is going to take a little getting used to,” he said softly, standing before the large window and staring expressionlessly at the Bay Bridge in the midday glare. Traffic was heavy but moving, he noted idly.

She looked at him, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. A deep, almost inevitable sadness hung heavily in the air. “Well, I think it’s for the best, don’t you?” she offered softly, almost rhetorically, and watched as he hesitated a long beat before nodding. She bit her lip and dropped her head, then inhaled deeply and looked back up. “Here,” she said strongly, hoping to snap him out of his reverie, “let me show you what I’ve stocked your fridge with.”

Almost reluctantly he turned away from the window and nodded, smiling slightly. His eyes swept the small living room once more as he followed her into the brightly lit kitchen. “It’ll be nice having a little more counter space,” he said with a chuckle, then shook his head with a snort. “I guess I don’t have an excuse not to learn to really cook anymore, do I?”

She laughed warmly as she put her hand on the fridge door. “Well, you don’t need to do that for awhile yet, and don’t forget you’ll be moving to Berkeley in a couple of months. Maybe you should be looking for a place with a big kitchen there too.”

He nodded with a facial shrug. “Are you offering lessons?” he asked with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, I do have to get back to school at some point if I want to get that Ph.D. but I can leave you some recipes and a few tips before I go.” She opened the fridge door and gestured at the neatly piled stacks of Tupperware containers, all labeled. 

His head went back slightly and his eyes widened. “Wow…” he breathed with a soft chuckle. “You were busy…”

She shrugged with a soft snort. “Well, I had some time on my hands. Mike wasn’t home much and you were… you know…”

“And you still found time to find me this place…” he said with an appreciative laugh. “Jeannie, you’re a miracle worker.”

She laughed derisively as she shut the fridge door. “Ha, not quite. This place was easy, I found it through one of the guys in your – in Homicide,” she corrected quickly, dropping her eyes and silently cursing herself for bringing it up. “The word spread quickly that you’d need a place without stairs for a couple of months and one of the young inspectors in Robbery, a friend of Dan’s actually, told him about this place… and he told me. The rest was a piece of cake.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m gonna miss that Union apartment…” he said with a wistful chuckle, “it had, ah… I don’t know, pizzazz.”

“Pizzazz?” She looked at him quizzically and laughed. “You’ve definitely spent too much time with my father.” 

He joined in her laughter, his eyes crinkling in genuine delight and for a few precious seconds the cloud that was hovering over their heads dissipated. Eventually his smile faded and he swallowed heavily. He glanced at her guiltily before walking slowly to the couch and sitting carefully. Almost unconsciously his right hand went to his chest over his heart as his stare turned inward.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him. She knew he wasn’t reliving the incident that had put him in this position, nor the long hospital stay he had just endured, but the past several hours, the emotional roller coaster that had begun when he had been picked up at the hospital by his now former partner and taken his last ride in the tan LTD that had become like a second home.

Her heart had broken for the two of them as they had spent their last few seconds together, standing on that unfamiliar street corner, shaking hands and wishing each other luck as both their lives turned in directions neither of them had anticipated not so long ago.

She hadn’t seen her father so thoroughly devastated since her mother had died. She knew he was a pragmatist and that he realized deep in his soul that he should be grateful that his partner, the young man who had come to mean so much to him over the years, had survived the horrendous near-death experience and was going on to an equally challenging, yet undeniably safer, career in academia. But nothing could take away the ache in his soul, the almost unbearable sense of loss that seemed to weigh so heavily on his shoulders.

She pushed herself away from the doorframe and took a half step into the living room. “Ah, listen,” she said softly, “how about I cook you something nice and fresh for dinner tonight?”

He looked up questioningly.

She smiled warmly, taking another step towards him. “What I mean is, how about I go out and buy us a small chicken and some herbs and veggies, and we can have a nice fresh dinner tonight.” She started for the door, picking up her purse on the way. “And you can take the afternoon to settle in here while I… occupy your kitchen,” she finished with a gentle chuckle.

He had watched her cross the room, his brow furrowing slightly. “That sounds wonderful but what about Mike?”

She bestowed her best wry smile on him. “Are you kidding? I think he’s had enough of me hovering over him for awhile. Besides, I cooked a pot roast last night and he has leftovers to heat up if he gets home at a decent hour tonight.”

He smiled perfunctorily with a soft chuckle then exhaled with a snort, looking down. “Regular hours… I wonder what that’s gonna be like…”

“Oh, I think you’re gonna get used to it pretty quickly.” She waited for him to look back up at her; when he didn’t she cleared her throat slightly. “I’ll, ah… I won’t be long.”

Still looking down, he nodded. With a sad smile, she left the apartment, closing the door silently behind her.

She’d been gone for almost a full minute before he got up, slowly and carefully, and crossed back to the picture window. He stared across to the Bay Bridge and beyond, the realization that the next few weeks would probably be the last he would spend in this City by the Bay.

Not for the first time a deep melancholic sadness overwhelmed him; he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold glass and let the hot tears slide silently down his cheeks.

# # # # #

She slipped the key quietly into the lock and turned it, hearing the soft click of the tumblers disengaging. Glancing back at the street and the tan LTD angled to the curb on the other side, she turned the knob and stepped into the darkened living room.

She was getting home a lot later than she had anticipated. Dinner had lasted longer than they had planned, both of them realizing that this might be the last time they would have a night like this, and neither of them wanting it to end. She had long ago realized he was the big brother she never had, and knew that his absence from her life would leave a hole in her soul almost as big as the one her father was already experiencing.

Locking the door behind her, she turned to head upstairs and had taken a step forward when she stopped, her eyes snapping towards the couch. Quietly, her brow furrowing in concern, she crossed to the nearest table lamp and snapped it on, stifling the gasp of sadness and sympathy that threatened to escape her suddenly tight throat.

Her father was sitting on the couch, still in his suit, his tie pulled loose and the collar button of his dress shirt undone. His hands were resting lightly on his thighs. The fedora lay brim down on the seat beside him. He didn’t look at her when the light came on; in fact he didn’t move at all. 

She took a quiet step towards him. “Mike…?” she said softly and watched as he blinked slowly, keeping his eyes closed longer than normal. He was breathing deeply and deliberately, as if trying to control his roiling emotions. 

Quietly, continuing to stare at her motionless father, she lowered her purse to the floor then picked up the fedora and set it on the coffee table before sitting beside him on the couch. Her brow furrowed and she bit her bottom lip. His eyes were red-rimmed and she knew that he’d been crying. She stared at his profile, willing her pounding heart to slow as she reached out and put a hand over his.

Her heart was breaking for him. He had lost weight in the past few weeks, and that had worried her. But he’d managed to keep everything inside until now, putting on a brave face for everyone, even as his world turned upside down and the life he had come to love with a renewed vigor evaporated before his eyes.

She squeezed his hand and watched as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. She waited. Eventually he opened his eyes and turned slowly towards her. She smiled as encouragingly as she could. She could see the beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth below the breathtakingly sad blue eyes. She felt her fingers being squeezed.

He inhaled deeply.

“It’s never going to be the same again, is it?” he asked quietly and her eyes brightened as she bit her lips, sliding closer to him on the couch to rest her head against his shoulder. She felt his cheek against the top of her head.

They sat that way for a long time.


End file.
